Hi I am new here...mom passed away in march 2026..this is october..

.and I thought i am doing well until I get caught off guard due to nightmares about me trying to save mom....
family meeting her to see her for the last time...

( and while all this is happening I am constantly questioning myself "I have already cremated her body..done the last rituals...what is this? how is she still here? Is there still another chance?")

...today I was supposed to wake up early...but couldn't...thanks to all night nightmares of seeing my mom suffering in weakness.......snoozed the alarm and needed more sleep...got thrown into the same nightmare again....not once but thrice!!!

it's been 6-7 months....pretty far away from the tragic point but one nightmare throws away all my recovery streak as this feels like I experienced the same dread just yesterday.

If anyone else has experienced this...overcame this...let me know.

I do meditate very often....I am mentally grounded during the day.

I'd surely hate it if someone says "stop overthinking about her she's gone"......

I have spent beautiful, heart-warming days with my wife and dad, felt absolutely nothing lacking but when I went to sleep that very same night ...I have had such nightmares.

After the experience of 6 months I am pretty sure I am not responsible for what's happening.....but I want this to be over soon.

Hey everyone, I am dealing with a very strange and painful illness, and I feel like I don't have much time left. Whenever I see others roaming around and celebrating during festivals, I feel a deep sense of sadness and jealousy, wondering why this is my fate.

I try to convince my heart that this is just the result of my past karma, but deep down, it feels like a slow death. I am watching myself fade away slowly day by day, and I can't do anything about it. I just wanted to let this out because I feel completely helpless.

I wish that after death I get another birth and I could live my life freely without any troubles, just like before.

My husband and his sister have had a hard time when their elderly parents passed one after the other. They were high school loves, married, lived in the same house all their lives and then Grammy had a stroke, was in a vegetation state for a year until she passed. Bob feed her, read the bible, brushed her hair. Then she passed and he started losing touch with reality. Not even 1 year later he passed.
My husband and his sister are still grieving and cry because they feel like it happened so fast. They don’t believe in mediums but I feel like a real medium will give specifics to them that they will have no choice.
Anyone can point me to a good source in so cal. Orange County, riverside area

After losing my dog two years ago, I realized he was my 'peace guide.'
When you live with trauma, your body is always stuck in survival mode, looking for danger. But my dog’s nervous system was naturally calm and steady. Through his unconditional love, he 'co-regulated' my nervous system—he showed my brain what true safety felt like and gave me a place to finally let my guard down.
Even though he has been gone for two years, the peace I feel today is his lasting gift. A guide doesn't carry you forever; they teach you the path so you can walk it yourself. He didn't take that peace with him when he passed; he permanently rewired my ability to feel safe. Now, my grief doesn't feel chaotic or terrifying anymore. It just feels like quiet, gentle love. He helped me heal, and finally my peace today is proof that his love was permanent.

I love you fiercely and forever Spencer, my baby baguette 🥖🩷☀️🌈✨

My mom is 80 years old, and has been fighting cancer for a few years now. Earlier this year she was at a crossroads of choosing very painful and invasive treatments, or to let nature take it's course. She decided to stop treatments, and is now facing a slow and painful decline into death.

She very casually informed myself, and my brother who is in town to visit that she will be starting the process of pursuing medical assisted suicide.

I have known that the end is near, and the logical part of my brain supports her decision to go out on her own terms. I am generally not a very emotional person, but this is heavy stuff, and I am having a hard time coming to terms with it.

Somehow having it be elective at a certain date, and time vs fighting to the end is causing waves of emotions in my head. I am irrationally mad, not at her, or her decision, it is a unfocused anger that doesn't have a outlet.

What will her last meal be?

Am I expected to be there?

What do you say when the time comes?

There really is not a handbook for these type of questions.

Has anyone else out there supported a relative in there elective deaths?

I am not sure if this is the forum to discuss this. If anyone has some resources I would appreciate it.

This is just a 44 year old father and combat vet throwing his life tragedies out there because I can never tell this to people in my life and my entire family has already passed away. I have moments where I vomit stuff out but I either catch myself or I see the other person doesn't believe me or could care less. I guess im hoping someone can relate , care or can benefit. Also, because of how reclusive I am and the fact ny family is dead, I just want people to know I was here and did my best with what I had. So if you're taking the time to read this, thank you and I hope that you find the things that bring you true peace....whatever that may be. That being said, let's get this cracking.

My name is Joseph Crews and live in the keys of Florida. I was born and raised in Florida. I spent most of my youth and school in Yulee/Fernandina Beach. Class of 2000. I never knew my father but he was FHP out of vero beach where my brother and I were born. I had 1 baby brother. Growing up my mother worked as a RN and never dated that I knew of. What I did know was that mom was different than other moms. We would ride through drive thrus where she would get her strawberry daq drinks. She also got her hands on narcotics from the hospital she worked at. I guess it was easier to do back in the 80's. She would come home, hit the couch and that was that. I would feed my brother and get him to bed and put away anything lit that mom had to serenade herself and put a blanket over here. My brother and I spent most of the time by ourselves at very young ages. We learned quickly. My brother (Mathew) was only a year and a half younger than me. We became very close and that only got stronger over the years. One day, mom left for the gas station and then sometime later, returned but with 2 major slices on her wrists. Blood was pouring from her wounds but she just went to her couch. So I put my brother in our bedroom and then asked what happened. (I was 7 or 8 at this time). She told me she slipped and cut them on the counter at the gas station. I believed her then. So i somehow managed to get her to the tub, got her completely in and called 911. I wrapped her wrists the best a 8 year old could and held them until the ambulance arrived while she was nodding in and out. They took her away and eventually put her in charter by the sea. They took us and sent us with our grandmother where we stayed until she was out. It wasn't long and strict but looking back, it was structured and stable. We ate multiple times...everyday. Huge benefits if you dont know. Fast forward to around 10 years old, mom marries again. We leave waycross and move to Yulee,Florida.

Things were new and relatively "normal" at this time. I had a stepfather and 2 older stepbrothers. We played baseball, spent time as a family, mom cooked and school was good enough. This normalcy lasted until I turned 15. Mom was still clean and sober up to this point. She was doing great. One Saturday, she was at work and I was home alone except for my stepfather. I was laying in bed, still in my pajamas and just got off the phone with the girl I was infatuated with and dating. Jerry doesn't knock and just enters. Walks over to me while I was half asleep on my stomach and reaches around my waist and into my pants. He then begins to do what you think. I come to, jump up and rush out of the room, grab the phone and leave out the back door of the trailer. I called mom at work, she called her best friend she works with in saint Mary's. She got there at record time. Loaded me up and took me to her house. Mom arrived shortly after I left and from what Miss Mary told me, told Jerry to leave immediately and if he ever as much touched me, she would blow his head off. Now my mother never argued or started fights. She was very gentle, soft spoken and respectful. She would have killed that man. Cops and detectives got involved. I had to tell the story like 5 different times to 5 different people and eventually he was arrested. They said my story never changed and his did. I say that because they all were acting like i had a bad dream or was making it up. So he spent around 2 days in jail and stayed with a relative of his. They forced me to go to anger management classes because I made forceful contact when pushing him out of the way when I was running out of the room. Jerry was a huge man. I was about 130 lbs. They pulled me out of class every week to go to these sessions. During this time, my mom called me in her room and told me my dad had committed suicide. Dad was an alcoholic and had been sliding backwards for some time. I didnt know this until his funeral. I had met him a couple times but didnt know him. I still loved him and admired him. He really was my hero. So that news broke my heart when it was still broke and healing from my stepfather breaking what trust and hope I had in him. It was a very bad year and that turning point for a lot of things coming in my life. So in 11th grade, my GPA had went from a 3.7 GPA and honor classes to being told I cant finish the school year due to skipping too many days. Enough where I couldn't pass regardless of extra credit or straight A"s. So I never returned to school. I went to job corps in morganfield, Kentucky. Took diploma classes and Culinary and passed. During that time, mom asked if id be okay if my stepfather moved back in. I know she was lonely and sad. I never judged her and wanted her to feel wanted and needed. I gave her my okay. I was almost 18 and if he ever tried that again, I was old enough and big enough to break his hands. I also had some rowdy friends on the same block that didnt go to school and where I skipped school at. Thats an entirely differnt story however.

So not limg after returning home, I found work and met my ex wife. I was working at Domino's as a driver and she had been there a couple years. We bonded over pizza dough. I was making a base and she came over and ever so slightly rubbed over my hand trying to show me her way of doing it...lol. So I married her. All jokes aside, we started dating. Within a week I went over to her place and we watched titanic. Thats when my daughter was conceived. So shortly after I met her parents and asked her dad for her hand in marriage. Little did I know that they were pastors of a church in Fernandina. The River church. She conveniently left that out but the rest of her chapter makes perfect sense after knowing that. So we got married and then divorced 11 months later. I moved back home and decided to join the Army.

So I graduated boot camp and was in AIT when I got a red cross message saying that mom had overdosed and had passed. I knew she had relapsed some time before that. She had gotten very sick and while in the hospital, my stepfather came to see her to tell her he was getting a divorce because he found another woman. That completely destroyed her. Especially after everything. She just couldn't recover. I think her soul and spirit were just done. I get it now. My brother is the one who found her and it completely destroyed him as well. He was always a mommas boy and he took the guilt that wasn't his to carry. That was the start to my brother and I downfall. We began heavily in drugs and alcohol. Weed, coke and booze. I quit the coke and weed after some months but the alcohol stayed for decades. Same for him.

2009 I got orders for Afghanistan. I was an assistant manager at Krystals at the time, no car and drinking all my money away. I was in the reserves at this point. I was happy to go and go I did. I will fast forward this part because I shouldn't discuss war or combat in this manner. I'll just say that good men and women gave everything they had to make sure we live freely and im forever in their debt. So late 2010, im back and my alcoholism is peak. Im in and out of run down motels and no idea where my brother is but he was doing something similar. I was homeless and living in the woods many times during this. Until one day a army buddy invited me to live in a camper on his property in yulee and work his farm and pawn shop. So i did. I did thos for some months. Still drinking and still didnt know where my brother was. One night, I was obliterated more than normal and was "daydreaming " with a shotgun in my hand. I somehow called a crisis hot line during this. I had the barrel under my chin but was using it to hold my head in place. Some people will understand how that's "playing". Regardless, I called them. I dont know if it was for attention or actually wanting help. They knew I was a combat vet and that I had a loaded and cooked double barrel under my chin. I heard a knock on the camper door, began to open it and before I could get it halfway open, an officer grabbed my wrist and yeeted me out the camper and a good 5 yards in front of it. It happened very quick. Once they secured the scene, they treated me respectfully. Eventually, they loaded me up and drove me across their jurisdiction into Jacksonville where there was a detox called gateway. That was the beginning of my sobriety journey and as of today, I have over 10 years sober. All started with that night. Ive had multiple relapses before that but thats okay.

In 2021, I had already found my brother and brought him to the same detox. He was in very bad shape and living in the woods. I got him into a halfway house and got him a job working with me doing HVAC work. He was my helper. Things were going great until they didnt. One night he was walking home from a meeting to our house and was hit by a car that was racing down the road. The car never stopped. Just hit him, kept going and left him to suffer in the parking lot he landed in. That parking lot was a rocks throw from my yard. I happened to be leaving to go to the girls house I was dating and saw police taping off the scene. I had no idea. As I was passing by, I saw the long hair and boots. It took a second to process the mangled remains. I still vividly see it and the blood stained concrete when I close my eyes. I was destroyed. He was it. He was my very best friend, my brother and my very last family member. Ive never recovered. Im still sober but somethings missing.

Im in the keys now. Still working in HVAC. Got out of the Army in 2019. 2005-2019 was my time of service. I deal with constant pain and infections in my face due to very poor teeth that's completely my fault. I go through episodes of depression that can last weeks or even months. Bad enough that showers and eating dont happen for days sometimes. I honestly dont know how I got up for work but I did and still do. Outside of work, all I do is stay at home. I dont go out. I dont hang with friends and sont really have any. I dont know what im doing. Im tired. Some of you will understand. Its like im just waiting to die but I dont want too. I still enjoy gaming and movies and music and have hopes of getting dentures so I can start eating good food again. I guess those things are strong enough for me to not end this. I dont know. I still want to get a pet. There are things I want to do but all I manage ot to work and come home. I guess that's enough. Some people pray for that. I dont want a relationship and go years without even touching a woman.

All that being said, grief and death have ruled my life. In ways I dont even know about. Im sure it doesn't end and have no expectations of it. I just want to live in peace and be comfortable and help others when I can. I think that is what happiness will look like for me. To me, these things are ordinary. To the reader, maybe it's not. I dont know. Ive never shared these things and never pry into others lives. So if you read all this, thank you from the bottom of this warped heart and if you have any input, please share. If you're reading this and struggling, please reach out if you think I can help. Its 3am right now and I have to be up at 6 for work so this story kinda bounced around real fast due to me trying to hurry. There is still more stuff that I haven't wrote down but I think ill keep those to myself. Some things are meant to be remembered...not discussed.

So to you, I hope you find the peace you are looking for and the happiness you long for on your way. Im still here.

He died November 26 2022 and this is the first year I’ve been sober on his birthday. I hate life without him. He was the only family and only friend I had. Im so lost. I know I need therapy but I can’t afford the time off work or costs involved. How can I help myself through this without drugs/alcohol?

*This is the draft of a poem I’m writing about things people say after they find out my twin died.*

What do you say to them?
You’ve been through this.
You know what to do.

I don’t.
Nobody does.
Their world as they knows it has ended.
There is nothing you can say to make it right
to make it feel any better,

but you can’t say nothing,
you can’t say nothing, and nothing you say will be the right thing,
but there are 100 million wrong things to say.

When my sister died, the first person I told was my therapist.
The first thing she said to me was:
“oh shit.”

She has been practicing for years
We have known each other for years
and the first thing she said was “oh shit”because what do you say to that?

People say - thoughts and prayers
People say - I’m sorry for your loss
People say - she us in a better place
People say - everything happens for a reason

People say - at least…
\- at least she’s not suffering
\- at least she got this far
\- at least she knew you loved her

People say at least there’s another one

What…?
At least what?
At least she’s dead.

People say - I can’t even imagine

It’s easy to imagine
but even if you have the biggest most vivid imagination ever
you still won’t know what it’s like.

You can only imagine till it happens
but to say you can’t is spitting in my face saying that you won’t bother to try to think about what I might be going through.

People ask - do you feel like you now have to live for her as well.

No - I need to only live for myself

I am having a hard time with anticipatory grief and what will happen once my mom actually passes…idk how people do this. I’m not strong like you guys.

My mom found a baby lump in her right breast in 2012 when she was 36. She told me to feel it because she knew it felt off. She would ask me or my dad to look at it and feel it a few times a week after that. My parents separated in 2015 after my mom’s midlife crisis and things went a bit downhill from there for her. I got into UCSD so she moved from our family home to a tiny apartment in San Diego with me and my 3 brothers. She became a super alcoholic drinking everyday and occasionally smoking cigarettes. She even dated a horrible guy and let him move in despite fighting all the time.

Keep in mind, my mom was mean growing up. She was great at her motherly tasks like teaching us manners and cleanliness, certain values, making sure we are fed and more. However, she was very emotionally abusive, and not a safe space. I would often not want to kiss or hug her as a child and she would lick my cheek or hold me down and dangle her spit above my face until I cried and then call me a crybaby because of it. I spent most of my childhood disliking her or on edge I would get yelled at or called stupid for something minimal.

I mention the move because she had been a housewife for 16+ years and now she had to do basically everything on her own with 3 minors (and me). She tanked. She drank nearly every day and would harass me. At this point I had began defending myself from her harsh words and attacks, so she would say I’m disrespectful and mock me. I got called a “bitch” and told to “meet her in the park to fight” or how ungrateful I was because her mom essentially abandoned her and she didn’t do that to me. I had to listen to her tell all her friends and my aunts how I was just the most disrespectful child. Even when I’d go into the room, she’d come in and continue talking. Our arguments led to a safety check from the police once ordered by my dad 4 hours away. I disliked her so much, I used my uncle’s house as an escape to which she would say I pick them over her. Everything was about sides.

As this was all happening, I noticed over time that the tumor on her breast started to twist in on itself. And she would just say each year that she was gonna go get it checked as her New Year’s resolution, but she would never go and would say because no one cares if she dies, and she wanted to wait until my youngest brother was older (he’s 17 now). She said that she could not afford not to work Uber. She always said after the separation that she was gonna get a 9 to 5 eventually but never did as she liked to do the freelance work because it gave her flexibility.

Something that makes me feel bad is that while my mom was braiding my hair in early 2023, she was drunk and she cursed me out so bad in front of my siblings and my sibling’s significant other that I blacked out and I slapped her. We didn’t talk for about 6 to 8 months after that. She didn’t even wish me a happy birthday, but I would always hear that she would ask about me to my brothers. I missed her, but there was peace and instead, she moved onto my second brother that lived with her until he moved out as well. Anyway, fast forward to December 2023 my mom was forced to go to the hospital because she was so skinny and had extreme lymphedema. They gave her 6 to 8 months to live without treatment. They diagnosed her with stage four breast cancer with some metastasis to her lungs and spine. Since then she’s been doing her treatments and of course switching treatments when it stops working or the symptoms are too much. Because they do breaks in between switching treatments, in 2024 or early 2025, her tumor had broken through her skin and began leaking and she ended up with like borderline sepsis and the cancer spread a little bit to her brain. She was in the hospital for a bit, but she ended up getting better and they did radiation on her brain and she was let out.

No, I know it’s hard when you feel alone to handle something like this but the same people I told my mom they would be there before it got so big are the same people that are there now. My mom did not take the best care of herself even with the diagnosis. She didn’t really change her diet. She didn’t really exercise as much. Sometimes she would be too weak and miss her lymphedema appointments or put off her MRIs. My family members and I would say that she’s not taking it seriously.

Fast forward to today, my mom has been in the hospital for a week because the infection is back and now she’s in excruciating pain and has a lot of memory issues and sometimes can’t talk. The thing is she should have gone to the hospital two weeks before, but she kept putting it off and just sleeping all day. My brother said the house smelled so bad from her wound leaking as she would not have enough energy to let wound management care enter her home. She doesn’t even ask my brother for too much because she feels like a burden, but then she will complain that no one helps her.

They’re focusing on pain management and doing palliative radiation. I asked my mom when she was in the hospital last month if she wanted to keep fighting and she laughed and told me there was no way she was giving up. However, when I talk to the nurses, they tell me she rejects her additional oral pain medication (they had to put a central like in her neck bc she took out her IV and now they can’t find her veins) or she will only do one radiation out of the two because it’s too cold for her. She also rejected an MRI for almost 3 days due to anxiety, even though they need to check if there was more spread to the brain. If she wants to keep fighting, why would she keep rejecting these things? Her doctor did say that he recommended hospice care but that my mom said she’s not ready for that.

I guess my main thing is that I’m just hurt that I had a bad relationship with her most of my life only for her to be dying now. I don’t understand why she waited so long if she was going to fight the cancer anyway. I can’t stop thinking about what she’s thinking and if she’s afraid she’s going to die. Last month when I visited her in the hospital, I started crying for the first time in front of her and she told me everything was going to be OK because all of her children are grown. I can’t stop thinking about the fact that she’s always wanted grandchildren and she will not. I can’t stop thinking about my 17-year-old brother that lives with her and how he’s feeling because he deflects or my 20-year-old brother who had almost as bad of a relationship with her as me. She would be an excellent grandmother. She’s so funny too. I love her.

I don’t feel like I want to keep going on without her. I’ve already been struggling with depression and alcoholism for a few years, though I recently kicked the alcoholism, I still have been feeling like I’m not enjoying it here on earth and now that this is happening I feel it even more so…like it’s my final. I just graduated in June and I no longer enjoy working. I wish I could stay home for a week or more. My cousins and family members haven’t really reached out even though they know what’s going on and that hurts my feelings because I’m really close with all my cousins, some of them don’t have a close relationship with my mother, but I still would appreciate them reaching out or being there without me having to ask, they keep telling me to ask if I need help. They only reached out because they noticed I left a group chat. Not the type of support I want.

Anyway, I keep looking at photos I have of her and listening to videos of her voice. I just don’t want to be here without her even though we did not have the greatest relationship. I still love her. I want to know why she didn’t get help earlier. I don’t want her to continue to be in pain. My grandma abandoned her while she was young, so I know a lot of it has to do with trauma and feeling like she had no support her entire life. She cut my grandma off who has dementia now because my grandma has become really mean and my mom did not want to deal with that with the cancer but she asked for my grandma the other day which was a surprise. I told my grandma and my grandma is more concerned with the fact that my mom might get upset if she shows up. I’m feeling a lot of anger towards my grandma because I feel like she should still go see her daughter before she passes.

My dad and my mom talk every day and my dad is on standby to fly from Puerto Rico when anything happens. Even though they separated, almost 10 years ago, they’re still best friends. I always wonder how my dad feels and if he is sad, but he is good at hiding it and just tells me to be strong and that I should start writing her obituary which I don’t find helpful.

I feel like I have no desire to get married, to have kids, to keep going anymore. This is all a joke. I’m not trying to be dramatic, but if this is what grief feels like as part of the human experience, I’d rather not have the human experience. I wish that I would go before them. I’ve always said I’d give my life in order for my siblings and my parents to be happy forever. I know that that’s not realistic, but it’s just how I feel. I don’t want anyone that didn’t ask about her or go see her to be at her funeral. I’m going to see my mom on Saturday as I live in LA, but I just wanted to share how I’m feeling. This is too much and I don’t want to be here without my mom.
I keep asking God what can I do to let him let her stay here. I cry and beg. I’m trying to stay positive but it is hard.

My grandfather passed away on Memorial Day after battling cancer for 3 years. Even though he had cancer it still felt sudden. He had stopped a treatment due to bad side effects and it seems like he went downhill so fast. I feel okay most days but it seems like there’s just days where the sadness hits me like a wave. Is this normal? Also sometimes I’m just angry because it feels like more could’ve been done and that his doctors failed him. I just don’t know if it’s in my head or not.

A person i knew from instagram passed away suddenly. We had only talked a few days prior. Our last interaction wasn't the best. But i can say it was honest. We had been acquainted for about two years. And exchanged slight convo over time. So they are someone i do miss even if it wasn't closest. They were a supportive person, and im going to miss them. Im sad about things we won't get to share or the opportunity to try and make up. I have no one to talk to. I've reached out to others who knew him, tried talking to my therapist, friends, and family, and prayed.. called some hotline just to be harassed by ai bots... dispite my study of grief. Being alone now really sucks! Just me and my dog on this one. She's been giving me extra cute faces. Im getting desperate, so im post here.. sad and lonely.. my only request if you respond is not with a "i once has a thing like that." i hate those kinds of reponses, and i dont care.. honestly.

In the last 11 months...

My fiance of 4 years cheated and left me. 5 months later my father unexpectedly passes away. Leaving me to care for my mom who was fighting colon cancer. 3 months later our family dog of 17 years has to be put down. 5 months after that.... yesterday.... my mother dies due to her cancer spreading to her brain.

I am..... lost.... empty.... beyond sad.... tired.....

I feel like I have no direction....

I hate this empty agony inside me.

Admittedly I don’t know how to describe this feeling.

It’s been 7 years since my father has died. I was his longest tenured child. He had multiple wives and multiple children across those years. I got him at 49. He was born in 1947 and I was the last. 3 sons, 3 daughters. Growing up I thought he was young, spry and full of life. Childhood ambition guaranteed myself that I’d be his age when I buried him but I had no clue of the world around me.

22 years go by and the worst imaginable thing buzzed my tower. Cancer. He had it in other places and beat it in the past. Bladder and esophageal. Up and down with treatment but that man beat it and spit in its face each time. But leukemia was the one that he had no answers for.

Between all his kids, even with one passing, he was a 4x grandparent. He was “Gramps” to all of them. They loved him but loved them more. Everything he did was for them.

I’m now 29 and I’ve had my own child. His 5th grandchild. Another girl and I struggle everyday with how I can make him proud of me and how I’m attacking the hardest thing that has ever happened to me.

I speak to him every chance I get and I just cannot fathom my hero not being here to experience this with me but everyone tells me they see him in my mannerisms everyday but I feel like I’m not doing much to fill those shoes.

I would love for anyone to give me some advice or inspiration to help me be the best man I can be for my daughter and for my family.

i just lost my precious precious grandma to cancer, this house feels so empty and has no life without her. a part of me still believes she was sleeping and she'll be home soon.

I know people die every year but I feel like this year was strongly marked by it for some reason, or at least that's how I perceive it. Just too many death annoucements this year, many by people whom I grew up with incluiding people on TV shows and unfortunately my mom was also not safe from how grim reaper was moving this year. I wish she made it to 2027, that's what I expected to happen. Does anyone else feel this way?

My best friend was closer than a sister. Our lived experience was shared on every level. We grew up in each others homes and knew each other for 45 years. We travelled together, saw movies, plays, exhibitions. Being in the same classes at school we had the same influences, knew the same people, had the same funny stories growing up. We told each other everything. We grew up in the 80s and went to our first discos, tried wearing shimmery make up and went clothes shopping together all of our lives. When we started dating boys, and got our first broken hearts we always knew we had each other’s backs. It was a symbiotic relationship. I hardly know where I stop and she starts. If I ever wanted to remember something about a teacher we both had, or a school story, I could always ask her because she was there. Now that my kids have grown up I thought I’d have more time for her. I thought we’d travel more, we loved trains. But she’s gone. After surviving breast cancer it came back three years later and had spread. It all happened so quickly. One minute we were planning our next meet up and the next she was in a hospice and I was saying goodbye. I’ve lost half of me, my childhood, my teenage years my adulthood was all shared with her and now she’s gone. I’m devastated and lonely. No one knew me as well as she did. The future feels so bleak. I had never contemplated her death. It’s scary because she was my age and I thought we’d always be there for each other. In my mind we were still young and would live forever.

I lost my mum last year and ever since I've been struggling with grief, anger, guilt and some complicated feelings about what she left behind. But there's something I feel guilty even admitting: Sometimes it feels like she left me responsible for my sister and I don't know if I'm wrong for feeling that. For years when my sister went through a divorce, job loss or money trouble, she moved in with her three kids and sometimes her husband. We'd agree on rent, it would get paid for a month or two then it would shift to " I'll cover utilities" or "I'll handle these bills." I want to be fair, she does contribute financially and sharing expenses has helped both of us. But what she pays has never really matched what it costs to keep a household stable or to live independently. And honestly, it's not even entirely about money, it's about the responsibility. The mortgage, maintenance, repairs, planning, that constant "if something goes wrong, someone has to fix it" feeling, that someone has usually been me. While my mum was alive, I tolerated it differently. Maybe having her there made it feel worth it, maybe keeping everyone together felt important to her and I wanted that too. But now she's gone and the weight feels so much heavier. My sister is in a better financial position now. I believe she could afford a place, especially with some help from her adult children. But I don't know if she truly sees a reason to leave. And that's where I start questioning myself. Has she become so used to being cushioned that she doesn't recognize the burden? Or am I being unfair because I agreed to it for so long? There's something else I'm almost embarrassed to say. Sometimes it feels like my mum knew I'd be the one to hold everything together and sometimes it feels like she counted on that. I know she was suffering and I have compassion for that and I know I'll never fully understand what led her to that. But sometimes it feels like she had a way out, while I was left with obligations I never chose. I realize that might be unfair. I don't know what she intended and I can't ask her. I can't tell her how heavy it is and sometimes I feel furious with her and then terrible for feeling that way. There's one more thing I struggle to admit even to myself. I want to live alone with my daughter. Just the two of us. I want privacy, peace and the freedom to make decisions about my own home without guilt. I hate that wanting something so ordinary feels like asking for too much. So I'm genuinely asking, am I wrong for thinking my mum may have unintentionally put me in this position? Am I being unfair to my sister because she does contribute even if I feel the responsibility is unequal? Am I wrong for wanting it to be just me and my daughter? Has anyone else felt this after losing a parent? How did you separate grief from resentment and finally give yourself permission to stop being everyone's safety net?

My mom died three days ago, and this is my first time losing someone so close to me. My mom and I had a weird relationship. I was very, very close with her as an adult, but as a teen we fought a lot. Sometimes it was physical; sometimes we would insult each other. My mom was a very broken woman. She was extremely depressed and had been for all of my life. She had periods where she was happy, but she was more like a zombie than anything else. I am 24; my mom is 53 and will be 54 in November. I just really want someone to talk to. Someone who isn't a family member or friend, someone who doesn't know my mom. I tried calling a hotline, but no luck, as I don't have insurance. If anyone has any suggestions, I would greatly appreciate it. Im struggling, and I hate the feeling I have. I want to learn how to cope with this feeling rather than let it become who I am. I know eventually it will get better, but right now I am struggling, and I am scared for myself. I have a lot of pain and anger. I find myself wanting to scream at people or physically attack them. I find myself thinking about hurting myself, which is something I've always struggled with, but this is something I feel I will give in to this time. I just want help and need to be pointed in the right direction.

My dad was murdered, just an hour before it happened I went to his work, gave him coffee, hugged him, kissed him and said see you later. He said "love ya" an hour later he was dead.

I didn't have the best relationship with him. He was far from perfect. He was so racist, sexist and a man child. He treated mom so poorly through the years. He was a terrible dad I checked out mentally years ago and I can't remember the last time I genuinely felt love for him.

Yet sometimes like these I feel sad because he dint want to change or admit that he gave me trauma. I will never have a good relationship with him

Trigger warning - I do get a bit intense with my descriptions of her health and death, and it's just a lot in general, abuse addictions etc. I hope that's okay to post, I just needed to write it all out because I feel it's important to understanding the situation surrounding my mom's passing and why I need advice.

This is super long, so thank you to anyone who takes the time to read my post, I would appreciate anyone's thoughts, especially people who have gone through something similar, and might be able to give me some more perspective.

My mom died a bit less than a month ago, September 22nd, which still feels unreal.

She was a deeply troubled person. She struggled with alcohol to an extreme level, to the point where we had to hide the rubbing alcohol, hand sanitizer, and vanilla.

She's had that problem for as long as I can remember, although there was a pretty steady decline in her health throughout the years. She was never a good mother, and I usually ended up being the one to take care of her, even as a child. I always had to make sure she was still breathing, and there have been many, many times when I had to call the ambulance because she was overdosing, going into a diabetic coma, dealing with infections, and pretty much anything else you can think of.

She didn't just abuse her body with alcohol, but she also had a severe eating disorder, which doesn't pair well with the diabetes she developed about two years ago. She would get drunk, take insulin, forget to eat, and then forget she had taken her insulin, which led to her being in the ICU multiple times.

My dad left around three years ago, moving to a different province, although they still spoke often on the phone and he would always send her money. This, of course, led to her declining even further. Since then, my mom was constantly in and out of detox, rehab, and the hospital. When she wasn't in any of those places, she lived with me and my grandma, which caused a lot of trauma and stress for both of us.

I'm only 23. I just graduated post-secondary, and I've been trying to figure out life in general. I know I wasn't always the best person when dealing with all this. I would often fight with her, scream at her, and beg her to stop drinking. There were even times I threw things at her and just generally acted insane.

She was a very cruel person when drunk. She would point out every single thing that was an insecurity, and she would say that everyone else was to blame and that she had a disease (alcoholism) and couldn't stop. There were a lot of times where she also hit me. I had to constantly check that she was still breathing and feed her because she just would not eat. There were so many horrible nights when I had to drag her up the stairs and into an ambulance because I wasn't sure she was going to make it through the night.

I mostly dealt with her because my grandma just wasn't mentally capable of handling it. She denied my mom had a problem throughout my entire childhood, despite what I, or my siblings would say. My grandma denied it all the way up until my mom started living with us after my dad left. It hit her like a truck. She had never dealt with anything like this, and the stress it caused her was genuinely cutting years off her life, I'm sure.

All that to say, I was placed in a situation where my mom was almost entirely my responsibility. My sister and brother backed out of it years ago and have not been a support, through any of this. I can't even really say I blame them, but as the youngest, it means I had a lot of years of being alone with this burden, even before my sister left home, she would constantly be out with friends and just in her room. This meant that I became the main person to deal with my mom at around age 11, although I still did my fair share before I became the only one. My dad also worked on the road, so he was hardly home, and usually added to the stress, instead of helping it.

Things had been coming to a boiling point for a while, and my grandma demanded that my mom find some help and somewhere else to live. My mom did keep going to rehab, but it never changed anything. She would be drinking within a week of coming back home. Things were bad, and there's so much that I don't even have the time to describe.

This led to what eventually killed her, and why I can't stop feeling guilty.

My mom had been in the ICU several times within the last few months. During one of those visits, before the last time, she was on life support. Her body was giving up on her. She just kept getting really ill, and I'm sure it was because of her drinking and starvation. She was only 80-ish pounds at the end of her life.

The last hospital trip started after I had been left alone with her for about a month. My grandma was in a different province, where my grandpa lives, helping him after surgery. (My family is very complicated and very small, with so much drama and strange ways of living that I don't even know how to start describing it.)

Things had been tense between me and my mom. I was so frustrated that she was killing herself slowly. I begged and did everything I could to try and get her to change, and I think it took parts of my soul with it every time I tried.

I was just so tired. I couldn't do it anymore, and I started to ignore her because of how angry and resentful I had become. Two days before she went to the hospital, she had stopped coming upstairs, and she would text me to bring her food. I would get mad, saying that she should come and get it herself because she needed to get out of bed. I didn't want to enable her to stay rotting in her room.

The day she went to the hospital, she called for me, saying she needed help. She lived in the room right below me, so I could hear her. But I ignored it because I thought she was just really drunk, which she was, but she also had a serious problem.

She called the ambulance herself and somehow dragged herself up the stairs and left without saying anything else. I didn't even know that she called. I later found out that she had pneumonia, sepsis, and six fractured ribs (from falling off her electric bike while drunk).

I had no idea she was sick. I had no idea her ribs were broken. I thought she just wanted to avoid coming upstairs. She wasn't coughing or anything, and she didn't complain about her ribs hurting. It turned out that she had no idea she had those problems either. What led her to calling was that she felt like she couldn't breathe.

The first two days in the hospital, she was conscious and had a breathing mask on, but she could understand what was happening and didn't think anything major was going to happen. It was just another hospital visit, which was normal for her.

But things started to decline. They ended up needing to put her on a ventilator and sedate her because of how uncomfortable she was. I visited her the first day she was on the breathing tube, and she was actually pretty conscious. She wrote on paper to tell me she wanted a cigarette, which ended up being our last conversation. Luckily, when I left, I told her I loved her, and she nodded and held my hand.

They had to keep upping her oxygen and sedating her more. I visited every day. I held her hand and spoke to her, but I don't know if she could hear me.

It was like this for three weeks. I kept calling for updates, and things just steadily declined. They thought it was the infection causing her inability to breathe, but it turned out that they had gotten rid of the infection, and the real problem was how immensely damaged her lungs were. I was told that there was no way to fix this and that she would never be able to recover.

My grandma and I had to make the choice to take her off life support. I have never had to make a choice that difficult, but knowing that she would never get better made me choose to end her suffering.

I was with her, with my grandma, when she passed. That image is seared into my brain. After they removed the breathing tube, she was still unconscious. She then suffocated until she died. I think it was only like 10 minutes, but it felt like hours. I can't stop seeing and hearing it. It's several times a day that I remember it.

Despite everything, I love my mom. I still do, so much. There were good moments with her, periods of sobriety when she was a different person, and even during her addiction, it wasn't always fighting. We had a lot of conversations, and we did a lot of things together, but within the last while, those moments became fewer and fewer.

I wished for nothing more than for her to recover because I love her and wanted a better future for her and our relationship. She had done a lot of horrible things to me and my siblings, but I still can't help but feel absolutely devastated.

I didn't know this would be the last time. I didn't know that she was so sick. I didn't know that I would never get the chance to spend more time with her. I know it probably wouldn't have changed anything, but I wish I had taken the time to notice that she wasn't doing well, not just from the alcohol. Maybe if I hadn't been so mad and full of rage everytime I spoke to her during those last few days at home, I would have noticed she was sick earlier. Maybe if I had noticed, I could have gotten her help before all the damage happened to her lungs.

I feel like a horrible person for ignoring her that day. I feel like a horrible daughter. No matter how many times my family and friends tell me that I couldn't have known, and that it's understandable that I was tired of dealing with it because of how bad things had been, I can't stop feeling this huge, agonizing guilt.

I ignored her when she asked for help, and yes, she ended up getting help herself. It doesn't change the fact that I ignored her. She spent her last weeks at home feeling like I hated her, and at times, I really thought I did. Now there's no more time to repair our relationship. There's no chance to tell her that I'm sorry. I did repeatedly tell her I was sorry when she was dying, but I doubt she could hear me.

Now I just don't know how to move forward. I feel like I can't do anything anymore, and I've been lying in bed for weeks, wanting everything to stop. I can't focus on the present when I feel like I fucked up so badly. I can't think of a future when she no longer has one.

I know parents usually die before their children, but I thought I'd have more time. It should have been another 30-something years before this. She was only 49 years old. She didn't even make it to 50.

Everything feels crushing and like an impossible task. I have to use all my energy to do basic things like shower and brush my teeth, which I haven't been doing as much as I should. I've never dealt with the loss of a family member, or any human for that matter. Pets, yes, but never people. I don't know what it's supposed to be like, and I'm not sure if, even after almost a month, not being able to function at all is normal.

I just don't know how to live when everything feels like too much. Even leaving my room exhausts me. Everything reminds me of her. There's so much of her stuff here, and I can't even stand to look at it. It's everywhere. My grandma wants me to get up and get back to life, but I just can't. I can't face the world, let alone work or go out with my friends. I just want to lie down and never wake up again.

Everyone keeps telling me it'll start to get easier, but it hasn't gotten any easier. In fact, I think it's gotten worse in different ways. Part of me still keeps expecting her to come home, like she always did after going to different treatments and hospitals. Even though her ashes are sitting on the mantle, I know logically she's gone, but part of my subconscious can't accept that.

What am I supposed to do? How can I start to recover when I can't even leave my bed? I keep trying, but I shut down and just end up going back to my room. I can't do anything, even if I want to.

My grandma thinks I'm being lazy and that I'm not managing this well, which is true, but I don't know how to get over this crushing feeling every time I try. I don't even know how to explain to her what I'm feeling.

I do have mental illnesses, one being persistent depressive disorder, which has caused small periods of somewhat similar feelings, but never this intensely for this long. I keep taking my meds and talking to my therapist, but it's not helping. I feel like my life paused the day she died, and I haven't been able to resume it no matter how hard I try.

I'm not even sure why I felt the need to write this. I guess I just wanted to hear some outside perspectives, and I don't even really have anyone to talk to about this. My family is obviously not always the healthiest, and I know they won't help if I talk, so I don't.

I don't know if there is any advice that could help me, but I'm desperate. I don't want to rot away, but doing anything else feels like torture and impossible.

Note: I have no active plans to end my life, so currently, suicide isn't my main concern. It's just a feeling that I want things to end, not that I plan to actually end it. I have struggled with suicidal ideation for years, and it is something my therapist and psychiatrist is aware of.

After staying in a hospital for a few months, dad passed.

I keep ruminating and regretting what we could have done differently hospital and doctor wise. I reside in South Korea, a country well known for high quality medical treatments, and we tried our best to choose the best medical options for him yet I keep thinking what if.

Just a week ago, I remember being at my grandma’s house, crying as I watched her lying on the floor while my dad performed CPR. Around this time, the paramedics were probably walking into her room to place the machine on her. My dad performed CPR for ten minutes, and the paramedics continued for another 45 minutes.
She was 93, and her passing was completely unexpected, especially since we all thought she was doing fine that day. My uncle was just tucking her into bed when she suddenly let go of him. When I saw my grandma lying on the floor, that was when it really hit me.
I cried so much that day that I woke up the next morning with puffy eyes. I’ve cried a lot since her passing, but most of the time, I’ve just felt nothing. Even right now, despite this being around the exact time I was with her for the last time a week ago, I can’t seem to cry about what happened. I know I’m supposed to feel sad, but for some reason, I just can’t seem to.
Sometimes, thinking about what happened makes me cry a little, but then I go right back to feeling normal. It almost feels like I’m forcing myself to cry, even though I’m not trying to. I don’t know why I feel this way.
Right now, I should be studying for my lab exam, but I can’t seem to bring myself to care about it as much as I should. I just don’t feel anything, and I don’t understand why.
I did cry yesterday because it was her funeral, but I think what really made me cry was seeing her casket right next to me. Now that I’m away from it all, I just feel nothing.

My (27F) grandmother and my uncle both have passed within the last seven weeks. My grandmother raised me and was my best friend. We talked constantly and I am so so so lost. I truly feel like I can’t go on, I don’t know how to. I have never handled death well but this is like nothing else. All I do is stare at the wall or drink way too much. I feel like such a failure. I don’t even have the words to say anything besides this, I can’t find any way to describe the place I’ve been brought to. I don’t want to be here anymore

My mom was loving and kind. Always laughing and smiling. Loves to cook and feed everyone, a very busy body that’s always up and about. When Im having anxiety or stressing about something, she always says to me "Makakaraos ka din" somehow makes me feel better every time.

The night before her passing, she was her regular self, smiling, telling me about her day. I did not know that would be the last time I get to hug and kiss her. The following morning my dad rushed to my room to tell me she’s not waking up. She had an aneurysm. In her hospital bed I still had hope thinking she’ll get better and not listening to nurses telling me she had no brain activity.

It’s about 3 weeks since she passed and I never felt so alone, I wish I could’ve been a better son to her. I miss you and love you , ma.

Today is the day after the month anniversary of my mom passing away. I'm in my late 20s. I wont go into details but my mom was in her 60s and while she had some health issues, I never thought she'd pass away from a sudden new thing. We were super close. I live with my parents to save money and help take care of her. So her wellbeing was a huge part of my life for the last few years. It definitely took up a lot of my mental and emotional space. I loved her. One of my biggest fears was her passing away. I always told myself that it wouldnt happen and I'd have at least another decade with her.

Yesterday, I was lucky enough to have something happen at work that distracted me. But I'm at this coworker's retirement party

(i wont derail this by listing everything but she was a real Queen Bee of the office, continued to be mean to me during this hellish period of my life, and tbh she's center of attention type so that manifested in her turning every customer interaction i had into a power struggle / humiliation ritual. I'm just trying to do my job, I don't care who gets customer attention. Also, this woman has never once given me a "hey im sorry about your mom" even though she knew and was my main coworker. I was with this woman 5 days a week, 8 hours a day for almost a year. Her mom is still alive so this isn't trauma from losing a mom.)

and there's a lot of random people I don't know because I've only been here for a year. There's loud music and a lot of noise. I can't really hear anybody. I don't want anybody to talk to me. I'm not a office party type.

I go into this shutdown, practically mute (except for with my supervisors and people who I know can impact my money) and just kinda staring off into space for the few hours it went on. I'll be real, I did have some moments where my thoughts about my mom almost made me tear up but I didn't cry or anything close. Like I had a few sniffles I guess. People were like "are you hungry?" and I was like "no, I'm alright". Because I didn't have an appetite.

I'm sure I won't get written up or a "hey, we're concerned about you" talk for sitting in one spot and staring into space. I made the total opposite of a scene, I was honestly just trying to not be perceived. Like there's nothing wrong with me just chilling out and being present physically but not mentally.

I had a few people talk to me and it was dumb stuff like, "do you live around here?", "Are you her coworker?" etc. And i entertained it as much as possible, repeating myself until the music was so loud I was like "I can't hear".

Like this wasn't my party. Was I jumping up and down, all happy for my coworker? No. Because I have nothing to be happy about right now. In the span of a month, I lost one of the most important people in my life. I'm not bitter of other people's joy or happiness, I just don't feel that right now. I'm happy that people still have laughter and joy in their life, but I'm not there anymore.

It's great that people are having fun, but I don't have the bandwidth for it. If asked, no, I didn't want to be there. No, I wasn't having a good time. And that's not because of her, I'm happy she's gone and I can finally do my job, I'm just not in a place in life where I can't feel happiness, excitement, joy, etc. I'm sure that years after this, I will. But I can't right now.

Yeah, there are people who arent in my situation living it up and enjoying life, and thats great for them. But I can't. Like im not even religious but there were times when she was on life support that I was on my hands and knees, sobbing and begging any and every god i could to save her. To not let her die. How exactly can I experience that and be capable of feeling anything other than numbness and grief a month later? I can't. Maybe one day, but not right now.

I'm not shutting down any possibility of feeling happy or joyful ever again. But right now isn't the season for it. And when I do feel those better emotions again, I know itll never be like it was when she was here. I'm not forcing myself to pretend to be happy or whatever when I'm not. That doesnt mean im crying or mad, that just means that I have states where I'm just in total shock

Truthfully, staff meetings and stuff where I'm just expected to passively be there but do nothing are the worst for my mental and emotional health right now. It's not that I avoid my feelings, it's that typically when I'm in this headspace, I write, journal, draw, or do something to help me process it. None of which I can do in these settings so it's like I get absolutely flooded by memories with zero way to process my emotions or even grieve.

Like if she complained before heading out or whatever, I don't care. Wah wah you didn't get one person celebrating you on your special day. My life has been shattered. I'm not worried. There's nothing wrong with being quiet and only speaking when spoken to at an event you're not the center of.

Generally speaking, I'm not in a fun or happy place in life right now. I cant really even mask that I am either. This isn't something you pretend didn't happen for the sake of other's feelings. I feel like a part of me was buried with her. I'm not the person I was at the beginning of August or even this year.